A Glance: Fleeting Moments
by PiscesChikk
Summary: Non related scenes give us a glimpse of how Reese and Carter relate to each other on a personal level, how their interaction draws them closer to understanding one another and how it causes their connection to become deeper.


_**A/N This was a writing challenge inspired by CrypticNotions and a suggestion she gave to me a few days ago when I was talking about writer's block. So I took her advice and limited each snippet to not much more than 300 words each. It was also a challenge to write a little against type and come out of my comfort zone. Normally I love angst, but in a few scenes here there are moments of levity in addition to them being serious. Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

_**Over Coffee**_

"So what's your type, John?" Carter asked as she got into the front seat of the black Town Car. She and Reese were on a stake out and she handed him the cup of coffee she got from the deli down the block.

"Type? What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. In women. What do you like?"

"Where did this question come from Carter?" He asked.

"Just thinking about Jessica, Zoe, your…..'_**wife**_' and I was just wondering I guess. What's your type?"

"Jessica was my high school sweet heart. We'd known each other for years. Being with her was….natural, easy I guess. And Zoe….Zoe is…..there."

"So you like them leggy, blonde and…"

"No don't get me wrong. Jessica and Zoe are polar opposites. Jessica was innocent, maybe even naïve. There was a lot she didn't know about the world, about me. Zoe on the other hand knows what she wants. She's not a babe in the woods. She's quite familiar with how the world works, relationships."

Carter laughed then, shaking her head. "You still haven't answered the question.

"I wouldn't say I have a type, Joss. A relationship, after Jessica….I don't even know if that's possible. If it was, I guess I'd be attracted to someone who understands me, understands my life as it is."

"Good luck with that, John. You think there's a woman out there who's up to that challenge?"

"Funny….I thought you were doing a good job so far."

* * *

_**A Study**_

Half an hour ago Reese had called Carter to get some information on the latest number he'd been working on. When she answered the phone she said she'd been on her way out to meet friends and was just heading out the door. It was her night off, the first in a long while and she wanted to cut loose and have some fun. It took some cajoling, but she agreed to go to the precinct to search for the information he needed. He however would have to meet her at her intended destination to pick it up.

He got off his bike, releasing the kick stand and walked across the street to _**Delia's**_ a jazz club in Manhattan. There was already a sizeable crowd and he checked his watch as he approached the entrance. He saw a cab pull up to the curb a few feet away from him and the door opened. Two honey coloured legs appeared, landing on the sidewalk and he turned his head, watching to see who would come out. Eventually the rest of the person came into full view and he watched in awe as Carter walked toward him, dressed in a form fitting tube dress. His head tilted to the side as he took in the sway of her hips, the delicate lines of her shoulders and the way her hair fell over her them in waves.

She recognized him and walked over; smiling as she did and the pink stain on her lips accentuated the fullness of them so nicely. The closer she got, the more he could smell her perfume. It was different than the light floral scent she normally wore. This one was far more intoxicating.

Her lips, her eyes, her smell, her body. Reese found himself suddenly aware of her like he'd never been before.

She extended her hand, thrusting a thin file toward him.

"Here you go. Hope it's useful to you. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a glass of red wine somewhere in there with my name on it."

He must have said something before she left, he was sure of it, though he couldn't remember what it was.

He crossed the street again, throwing his leg over the side of the bike. He watched her ascend the stairs of the club to the front door, her butt moving under the tight fabric of the dress. He pulled off into traffic, with the scent of her perfume still in his nose.

* * *

_**About Appearance**_

"What are you staring at?" Reese asked acknowledging Carter's intense scrutiny of him. She'd been looking at him with narrowed eyes for the past five minutes.

"Your hair." She said, still studying him.

He raised a gloved hand to the top of his head, self consciously patting it.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"I mean do you think you used enough gel today? I'm sure you missed a spot in the back somewhere." She chuckled and finally looked away.

"You think I used too much?" He shrugged, turning his eyes once more on the basketball court in front of them. "Just trying to keep it neat."

"I guess. I mean if the oil slicked car salesman look is what you're going for." He turned his head to see her unsuccessfully try to conceal a wide smile.

"What about you? Isn't the ponytail getting a bit old? The part to the side, all stiff and old fashioned. I mean I guess it's alright Carter if the old English governess look is what _you're_ going for."

He turned away as she gaped at him open mouthed before socking him hard in the arm. He reached out holding it, feigning injury and discomfort.

"I think I prefer this look over the bangs though. I'm glad you decided to get rid of 'em." He said looking at her out of the corner of his eye as she gasped.

"You told me I looked cute with those bangs!"

He shook his head. "I remember using the word _'nice'_. Don't go putting words in my mouth."

"You are a mess. So you're saying I'm _not_ cute?" Her folded arms and the expression on her face dared him to call her otherwise.

"No that's not what I'm saying." He replied, shaking his head again. "I think you're, you're very….."

"I think we've got company, John. Let's go."

She pulled her gun out of her holster then and his was removed from the small of his back. Side by side they moved to the far end of the court their conversation now forgotten.

* * *

_**A Phone Call**_

Carter hurriedly ran from the kitchen, drying her hands and grabbed her cell phone from the coffee table.

"Carter."

"Quick. Tell me what's white, with blue and yellow stripes and purple hair?" The absurdity of Reese's question would have made her laugh, but his tone was so grave, so serious, she found herself mentally picturing what he had just described.

"I don't know, what is it?"

"I don't know either, but it's walking in front of me in Times Square, Carter."

She burst into laughter, sitting down in the chair.

"She's wearing all the colours of the rainbow; I swear I counted at least five."

"You are lying." She said still laughing at his mortified tone.

"I am not." He assured her. "Wait. I'm sending you an image right now."

Sure enough in a matter of seconds, she checked her message and saw an image that could only be described as he had when he first called. She laughed again and this time she was treated to a throaty grin on the other line of the phone. She pictured his high cheekbones rounded in mirth.

"I hear music in the background." He said.

"Just playing a little Nina Simone while I fix myself something to eat."

"Hmm…and what's for dinner, Joss?" She found herself blushing when his voice dipped as he said her name. She told him what she was fixing, her voice suddenly shy.

"I'll let you get back to it then. I didn't mean to disturb you. I saw our _colourful friend_ and thought of you."

His words warmed her somehow. "You did?" She could have kicked herself for asking but she wanted to hear him say it again. The silence that came afterwards was deafening and she held her breath wondering if he would even answer.

"I did." His voice was low as he responded and she was sure she could hear him smiling.

"I'm glad. I'm glad, John."

* * *

_**Battle Scars**_

Carter held the Ziploc bag of ice to Reese's cheek. The cut on it had already been disinfected and bandaged, but the ice was to prevent swelling. She ignored the terse look on his face, her grip on the bag firm, but he brushed her hand away curtly.

"Its fine, Carter. Nothing more than an annoyance, really."

She kissed her teeth at his remark. "I guess the bruise here is just an annoyance too, then." She asked hitting him in his ribs and watched as he grimaced slightly at the soreness and grunted. He grabbed her hand and held it.

"It's not serious enough to acknowledge, or slow me down. It's not important." He got up from his seat, stalking across the room, his stride long.

"You're not Superman, John. You need to be more careful."

"If I slow down, I die. I have to keep moving, Joss. It's the way I live my life. It's the way it's always been."

She realized they could continue to argue. They could go on back and forth but no one would come out the victor. He was right. This was how he lived. For a long time, this was all he knew. Who was she to try to convince him to be or act otherwise?

She turned away at his blank expression, the thin line of his lips telling her that their conversation was done. Only the slight twitching of his jaw gave her any indication that perhaps her words had sunk in somehow. She walked into the kitchen taking the rapidly melting ice with her. Emptying them into the sink she heard his retreating footsteps and the front door close behind him.

* * *

_**Sparring Partners**_

"Hands higher Carter." Reese said lifting her arm, closer to his head. "You want to strike here." He said raising her hand slowly and twisting her wrist, placing it on an area of his chest a few inches from his heart. "If you hit there, at the front of the shoulder, a blow hard enough can disable his entire arm, weaken it, and he pretty much can't use it anymore to attack you." His voice was firm, his words instructive as his fingers slid over hers as he dropped her arm.

"Try it again."

He watched her intensely as she got back into her stance and raised her arm to strike at him once more.

"Good." He said approvingly as her blow landed.

They'd been at this for about an hour now, their bodies sweaty, clothes sticking to them. But despite the heat, the burning in her chest as he showed her move after move in hand to hand combat, she felt alive under his expert tutelage. There was something about a shared military background, a performance of these moves that took them back to their training days, missions and bonded them wordlessly.

She gazed at him as the sweat dripped down her face and she breathed through her mouth heavily. Her heart was racing as they sparred again. Quickly their hands and arms moved against each other, mock blows, strategically thrown but not heavy enough to disable, a flurry of limbs engaged in a frenzied skirmish. One underestimated move and she ended up on her back, landing soundly on the matted floor of his makeshift training pit.

He got on top of her, straddling her thighs, tucking his toes underneath them.

"Wrong move, Carter." He said, a small smile creeping over his face and he leaned in closer pinning her under his weight.

"Maybe not." She said while placing her arms against his elbows. She shifted her body suddenly causing him to stumble and she rolled away quickly throwing him off of her. She got to her feet pleased at the look on his momentarily stunned face and she laughed.

He took her extended hand and got up, chucking her under the chin.

"I'm impressed, Joss."

She threw her towel around his neck, pulling on the edges. "Hmph, you should be. Come on." She said walking away. "We both need a shower."

* * *

_**Sweet Tooth**_

"You want one?" Reese looked at the opened bag of M&M's that Carter held out toward him and smirked.

"M&M's?" He asked, holding the bag in his hand first, then emptying a few into his palm.

She shrugged, popping another one into her mouth. "Sugar cravings."

"Hmmm….haven't had these in a while." He admitted.

"You don't even look like a candy person really."

"No?"

"Nah. I picture you snacking on dry trail mix or beef jerky. Something like that."

He laughed at her assumption, a rumbling sound deep in his throat and she grinned. "Well I do like trail mix, but I will have you know that I also indulge in chocolate from time to time. Got to sample quite a few types during my time in the CIA. One of the perks of being an international spy and all."

"Ah…so you have an appreciation for Swiss, English and Belgian chocolates then. These M&M's must be an insult to your cultured taste buds." She joked and he took the bag from her taking a few more out.

"What's your favourite colour, Carter?"

"M&M's?"

"Yeah. And this is a serious question. How you answer is very important, so be careful. Your reputation as one of New York's finest is on the line right now." With one of his hands folded under his arm and with his other hand fisted under his chin, he gave her his most attentive look as he waited for her answer.

"Truthfully? I like the orange ones. I know they don't taste any different than the blue ones or the red ones, but…..I just like 'em."

"Hmm…I see. Interesting."

She nodded and the talk of candy was over for the moment.

She went to work the next day and as she sat down at her desk a jar of orange M&M's sat proudly in front of her wrapped in a huge bow. She opened the card that came with it and smiled.

'_**To hold back those sugar cravings'.**_

* * *

_**A beginning**_

She knew this was a big step for him. For both of them, really. She stood next to him as he opened the lock and took her hand leading her inside. She walked over the threshold almost feeling like she was entering holy ground, a sacred place.

She'd never been here before, she had been tempted to follow him home a dozen or more times, but decided against it. She didn't want to invade his comfort zone. But after a few trips to her place and a slowly developed connection between them, he felt comfortable enough to invite her over to his. She walked with him; hand in his as he gave her a brief tour. The space was huge, the furniture minimal and there was a quiet dignity about it.

The windows allowed for a lot of light, a view of the city below and the wood floors lent to a quiet elegance to the loft. Their footsteps sounded on the floor together as they walked around, his hand never left hers. He seemed proud to finally show it off to her, to finally reveal to her another layer that was John the man.

They ended up back in the living room and he finally let her hand go, raising his arms and spinning around slowly.

"What do you think?" He asked almost waiting for approval.

"It's beautiful, John. Finch?"

He nodded his head and so did she. "I figured. It's not quite you, though."

"No it isn't. It's definitely not what I'm used to. But it'll do. This is my home. For now at least." She walked over to one of his tall windows looking out at the people, traffic, below.

Suddenly he was beside her and he reached for her hand again, holding it, but not looking at her.

"I'm glad you're here." He said softly. "I'm glad we're finally here."

He was acknowledging what she had been thinking since they both set foot inside. The slight shift in whatever it was that was between them. She squeezed his fingers, her eyes still focused outside.

"Me too."


End file.
